Pausing briefly to shake off his reluctance, Tallus puffed up his feathers and marched headlong over the threshold, whipping to the side to face the unknown creature. Instead of attacking, though, the Owl just stood there, confusion mingled with excitement spreading across his face.
“It can’t be,” he said.
“What is it?” asked Ivetta, still very much on her guard.
“Best come see for yourself,” replied Tallus. “Bring the children with you.”
Ivetta wasn’t entirely settled on the issue, but she had no reason not to trust Tallus, and so tentatively waddled forward, keeping Melody and Oliver close behind her.
The room they entered was exceptionally plain. The walls were something like concrete only not as artificial-looking. With no visible exit apart from the passage, it felt like another holding cell – a sort of interrogation room. A single candelabrum on the wall provided the only weak source of light. As they came through the passage, Melody stole a peek through Ivetta’s thick feathers, then came bursting into the room at what she saw.
“Mr. Browntail!” she cried, throwing her arms around the squirrel as though they’d been dear friends their entire lives.
It was now the squirrel who was in shock. “I…I don’t believe it! Is it really you, Miss Melody? I thought you weren’t coming back!”
“I promised you, didn’t I?” she said, still squeezing him until he thought he might burst.
“Why yes, I suppose you did, he said, his furry face become ever so slightly flushed. “And look!” he cried, taking note of Oliver for the first time, “You’ve come with another! Two humans, come to Oscuria at last! I knew all those years ago that there was something special about you, dear Melody. I see that on this one point, anyway, I wasn’t wrong.” At this, it was Melody’s turn to glow a vague shade of crimson. Browntail continued, “But what is it that took you so long? And how is it that you don’t seem to have aged a day?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” she replied. “You see, it hasn’t been ages since last I saw you. At least, not to me, it hasn’t been. Why, it’s hardly been two days since we first met. And yet somehow, it’s been years in Oscuria.”
Browntail’s face grew dim, as though all the joy that had just been poured into his soul was suddenly drained out again. “You must tell me more,” he said, “but not just now. Come, let us seal up this passage and venture further into the deep. There is much to tell between us all.”
Once everyone was clear of the passage, Browntail began to speak something in that strange crystal language with which Melody was becoming so familiar. When he had finished, she heard a sound like crumbling rocks coming from the passage. Soon an avalanche of stone was making its way towards the passage delta where it began to pile on top of itself, filling in the space from floor to ceiling until there wasn’t a single weakness between the wall and the tunnel behind it. Melody watched in awe as the black stone turned gradually to a cold grey, like clay when it finally dries. They were left in a plain room of four solid walls, and not even the hint of a seam where a hidden door might be.
“One passage must be sealed before another may open,” explained Browntail, noticing Melody’s confusion. No sooner had he spoken when an outline appeared on the adjacent wall. It was made out of green jewels, and it stretched the entire length of the wall, forming an oversized arch with columns drawn on either side. The detail was meticulous, with ornate markings stamped all along the doorframe, which glittered in the dim light of the candle. The entire room, which had seemed dreary and plain, now dazzled by the glitter of the gems. Browntail approached the door and pulled the wall back like a curtain, ushering everyone through.
On the other side stretched a long tunnel, with more candelabra lining the walls, some dangling from the ceiling sporadically, like medieval chandeliers. Gems glittered all around them, and not just green, but red and blue and purple and turquoise and gold – it seemed every color of the rainbow was represented. At various stations along the way there stood odd creatures that looked like men with hard faces and ancient beards. They all wore skull caps and held what appeared to be battle axes. They looked to Melody like they were standing guard though so many guards in such a hidden place seemed a little excessive to her, even after all they’d been through.
“What is this place?” she asked Browntail as they walked.
“This is Aurelio’s Keep. At least, that’s what we call it. We began construction on it more than ten years ago, not long after your last visit to Oscuria.”
“Is that where you’ve been all these years?” asked Ivetta, questions beginning to race through her mind as well.
“Yes. I’m sorry to have kept it a secret from you of all people, Ivetta. It was necessary, however, to make sure that I wasn’t followed. Dragore somehow caught wind of Melody’s last visit to Oscuria – no doubt some wretched Fairy spy of his prowling around my woods! Word began to travel that he wanted me for questioning. Well, having heard of some of Dragore’s more creative interrogation techniques, I thought I’d seek out another option.
“I knew that Dragore wanted to imprison me or worse, so the only way to really get him off of my trail was to disappear entirely. It was too much to fake death – Dragore is the sort who likes to have corpses for proof – but vanishing seemed just as useful, if not more so since Dragore wouldn’t be able to assume that I was out of the picture.
“I came to the Owls for help, of course. To Otus.”
Browntail gave significant look to Ivetta, whose ears seemed to perk up at the mention of Otus’ name. “Then he knew you were here all along?” she asked, a hint of hostility in her voice.
“Yes, Ivetta. He knew. Believe me, he wanted to tell you. He even argued that it would be best for the both of you to know, to better protect me. It was I who insisted otherwise. If you had both been keepers of this secret, one way or another it would have been discovered at the wrong time.”
Contempt subtly spread across Ivetta’s face. Even with all of her years of experience, all of her training and discipline, recent events were finally beginning to break her down.
“All this time…he’s been keeping this from me?”
Heaviness settled on all the company. “He kept it from everyone, Ivetta,” Browntail said in as soothing a voice he could (which, in Melody’s opinion, was not very soothing at all). “It was for my sake. If anyone is to blame, it is to be me.”
Ivetta stared at the ground, taking it all in. She wondered how much else there was that she didn’t know. Amidst the sting of this news, she fought to hold fast to her charge.
“It makes no difference to me,” she said, as though snapping out of a reverie. The exaggeration in her voice was apparent to everyone, but they all let it go. “He was only doing his duty, and I am only doing mine.” Without another word, she marched forward, pushing past everyone, even though she couldn’t possibly have known where she was going.
After that, nobody spoke for a few minutes. It was quite clear that, despite what Ivetta may have said, Otus’ involvement in the safekeeping of Browntail made the utmost difference to her, though Melody was still not quite sure why. They walked on in awkward silence until Oliver could no longer stand it.
“Who are they?” he asked referring to the strange men at attention lining the hall.
“They are dwarves,” replied Browntail.
Oliver sniggered. “That can’t be right,” he said, “Dwarves are short and ugly, like pugs. These just look like regular men with long beards.”
Browntail laughed, mockingly. “Oh, ho!” he cried, “I see you are as much an expert on Dwarves as Miss Melody, here, was on Fairies!” Melody, though she normally might have felt embarrassed or even angry at having been called out for foolishness, smiled at the memory of their first encounter. Browntail continued, “My boy, what you are describing are Imps, not Dwarves. They are quite different, you know. Imps are selfish, often nasty little creatures, save that one Ünis. The Dwarves are made of thicker stuff, though they do spend much of their time mining the mountains, causing others to think they are loners. Indeed, this very keep used to be their mine. When the time came for me to go into hiding, they very graciously expanded it to be a hideout. The Dwarves were always loyal to Aurelio, despite what people may say about Dwarves and their greed. Thankfully, nobody knew about their delving this deeply in the mountain, so there were no concerns of being found out. They sealed up all but one of the above-ground entrances, and that one was enchanted to keep us protected. While the Underground was exceptionally complex and sophisticated for a hidden lair, I knew it was only a matter of time before Dragore would find his way into the Owl holes. I needed something even more secret, even harder to access. Someplace where there wouldn’t be constant comings and goings. I can only assume by your appearance here that those comings and goings finally led Dragore to the Underground.”
“Dragons,” said Tallus, grimly. “He came at us with Dragons.”
“Hrmph,” scoffed Browntail, “I shouldn’t be surprised if all of Oscuria is seething with Dragons by the time we’re able to do anything about it. Even before I went into hiding, intelligence reported that he was feared to be breeding them.”